


Tension

by DoIEverForgetThePie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel and Jimmy Novak Are Twins, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Flashbacks, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, POV Castiel, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Slow Burn, dean is bi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 07:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5777662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoIEverForgetThePie/pseuds/DoIEverForgetThePie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jo Harvelle spoke fondly of Dean Winchester, but Castiel Novak (and everyone else in Lawrence) assumed he would never return to Kansas. Cas had never expected to meet Dean, and he certainly hadn't expected to learn his past held quite so many secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tension

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this first chapter to see the response. This is part of a massive already lined out and partially written chapter fic. I'll update the tags as I update chapters, but I'll go ahead and warn you there's a lot of death and quite a few trigger warnings (which I will add here as I post the story). Oh, and guess who is going to try her hand in smut for the first time? Me. Writing those parts has already been a wild ride. PLEASE comment if you're interested in reading the rest of this story. The second chapter is written, but needs to be edited, so if I feel like it's worth it I'll continue on.
> 
> Thank you in advance if you chose to read this and take interest. <3 You're awesome.

The sweet smell of Harvelle's Friday dessert dish filled the cramped kitchen. Spicy cinnamon wafted under Castiel Novak's nose, making him long for the comforts of his bed. He folded his arms over his chest, sighing lightly as he leaned back on the stainless steel countertop behind him. His feet were throbbing, but the warm scent of apple pie was beginning to lull him into a false sense of security. 

“Ass off the counter, Cas!” Jo Harvelle hollered as she busted through the doors. She strolled toward Cas with her pony tail bouncing behind her. "C'mon," she added, smacking him on the arm just hard enough for it to smart. 

“Ouch!" he whimpered, massaging his arm where the spiral spine of the pad made contact. "My butt's not  _technically_  on it!” he groaned in mock exasperation. He dropped his hands to his side, letting them fall limply against his thighs with a dull thud. He wasn't planning on moving unless Jo magically produced a gun and opened fire.

Jo's hand automatically went to her hip, and her lips pursed.  

Cas knew she wouldn't harm him, but he knew she was annoyingly persistent.  “My feet hurt,” he whined, not caring about being on receiving end of Jo's  _oh whatever_  face. 

“I wonder why,” Jo muttered, casting an accusing glance at the massive hole in Cas’ shoe. 

His toes wiggled self consciously inside his decaying shoes. “I like these shoes. They're… sensible." He wasn't lying, not completely. He did like the shoes. At one point they'd been excellent as far as comfort went, but what the shoes had become now were far from sensible.  

Jo raised an eyebrow, “The sole is coming off the left shoe, and there’s more hole than shoe in the right one. Where’s the sensibility in that? Now, come on. I’ve been telling you for years to get new shoes. Can't whine about something you’re not gonna fix,” she retorted.

Cas stared at his shoes, watching the movement of his socked pinkie toe through the massive hole in the side. 

Jo to let out a soft sigh. “I know they’ve got sentimental meaning, but your brother would be okay if you bought new shoes.” 

A wave of nausea washed over Cas. His hands curled into fists as if the tension that came along with the subject of his brother lived inside his muscles. It had been years, but the slightest mention of Jimmy still felt like a knife twisting in his gut. Losing a sibling was heartbreaking for anyone, but losing a twin? That had come close to ending Cas. Jimmy had died, and Cas' grief had consumed him. Which was how he ended up in Kansas with his beat up Lincoln Continental, a couple thousand dollars, and several garbage bags of clothing. It was also how he ended up entering the first place with a help wanted sign in the window. He'd be the first to say he couldn't have chosen better. He struck gold when he walked into Harvelle's, clutching the laminated help wanted sign. The Harvelle family had done more for Cas than he could ever have asked. They accepted him with open arms, which was a foreign experience for him. Jo had managed to drag out a side of him that only his brother had ever managed to bring about. She helped him appreciate the little things in life, which was something he had always failed at. Cas had been a bigger picture kind of guy for most of his life, until the bigger picture had crumbled.  

Jo grabbed a towel and playfully flicked it at Cas’ arm as an attempt to lighten the mood. “Come on now!” Jo shouted. “You wanna get smacked in the head with a soggy dishtowel? Ask Benny how that feels.” 

The ghost of a smirk appeared on Cas’ lips. He was undeniably grateful for the way Jo knew just when to change the subject, and what subject to change it to. Benny being assaulted by wet dishrags Ellen threw at him was always a source of joy for Cas. He and the diner's short order cook hadn't mixed well from the beginning. “I think I could get away with it,” he admitted with a shrug. He began the process of pushing down the darkness that tried to consume him along with thoughts of Jimmy. He forced the most believable smile he could muster.  “Ellen loves me!" he reasoned in a nonchalant tone. 

Jo chuckled. 

Cas felt a wave of relief. He sang a silent hallelujah that Jo hadn't pressed on with the subject of shoes and siblings.  

"She won’t spare you, trust me on that one. There are two things Ellen Harvelle hates. Number one: my knife collection. Number two: people leaning their rear ends on the prep station." 

Cas rolled his eyes, grimacing as pushed away from the counter. "What do we have planned for tonight?" 

"Movie night? Popcorn and maybe some beers?" Jo gave Cas a broad smile. 

"If there's alcohol you have to sleep on the couch. I don't know how many more drunken belly flops that air mattress can handle before it explodes," Cas informed her, recalling the last time she got intoxicated at his apartment. She had moved the air mattress from his spare bedroom to the living room, and dived off the top of the couch repeatedly. 

"Hey, that's not fair! I was really drunk! You should have cut me off!" 

Cas shrugged, "I was drunk too." 

Before she could reply the jingling sounds of bells interrupted their conversation. Cas poked his head outside the door. He hoped to see a regular that would find their own seat and wouldn't mind the lack of immediate service. He sighed in defeat when greeted by an unfamiliar face poking around the jukebox. 

"I'll go," he groaned to Jo, slipping out through the doors. He put on another phony smile and welcomed the customer with his overly rehearsed greeting. "Welcome to Harvelle's, can I interest you in a slice of our apple pie? It'll be fresh out of the oven."  

The customer looked up from the jukebox and Cas' heart stuttered. Cas was no stranger to liking men. He’d interacted romantically with a few men here or there in his life, but none of them had ever made his knees weak. That changed the instant the beautiful stranger locked gazes with him. To put it simply, Cas was in awe. Entranced by the man's beautiful plush lips and his green eyes that could rival the treetops of the most lush forests. 

"Mm, damn, pie sounds good. I'll have to take you up on that offer one day. Ellen or Jo around?" 

Cas blinked a few times, trying to combat the way the sound of the stranger's low  _mm, damn_  went straight to his groin. 

"You okay there, bud? You look a little flushed." The man approached Cas with his arms outstretched as if preparing to hold him up should he collapse. 

Cas jerked, remembering his surroundings. He vigorously shook his head from side to side to help draw him out of his daydream. "No! I mean, yes. I'm okay. Jo's here. Let me get Jo. I'll be back. With Jo," he stammered. He took a couple steps backward, turning on his heel and plowing through the doors to the kitchen. 

Ellen and Benny had joined Jo's company and were unpacking the next day's delivery. With the doors swinging to a close behind Cas, the happy chatter in the room came to an abrupt halt. The trio had turned all attention toward Cas and his raucous entrance. He mentally cursed the diner for having a back door. He hadn't expected anyone but Jo to witness his embarrassing frustration. 

"Did ya see a ghost there, Hot Wings?" Benny asked, laughing despite his obvious hostility toward Cas. 

Cas ignored Benny calling him by the horrible nickname he had earned by accidentally spilling an entire plate of hot wings down his front, and motioned Jo toward him with a spastic wave. "There's an extremely attractive man in the dining room asking for you or Ellen," he whispered. 

Jo's forehead creased in confusion. "Huh?" 

"He's tall, 6 foot or more. Dark blonde hair. Green eyes. Beat up leather jacket."  

"Calm down, Cas. Come with me, we'll see who it is." Jo held her hand out to Cas and wiggled her fingers, prompting him to take her hand before they left the kitchen. 

Jo's hand was cupped around Cas' for no more than five seconds before she ripped it away, covering her mouth as she gasped in excitement. “Dean Michael Winchester, you’re _home_!" 

The wheel’s in Cas’ mind began to crank faster than ever before, linking faces with names and names with stories. Jo had told him many tales from her childhood. Almost all of them involved her 'brother' Dean. Cas remembered Jo telling him about how she talked Dean and his younger brother Sammy into climbing on top the tool shed despite being younger than both of them. Then from there how Dean had convinced Sammy he could fly if he jumped the right way. Which ended up getting Sammy a broken arm. He recalled how she had laughed her way through the story, but ended it with a sad smile.

So, the gorgeous stranger that had set fire to Cas' cheeks was the infamous Dean Winchester. Dean was a man who Cas never believed he would meet, and certainly never thought he would have to worry about being attracted to.  

Dean's voice rang out through the nearly empty dining room, only interrupted by the faint sounds of an old rock song on the Jukebox. “Heya, Jo!” 

Jo was gone, she had bolted toward Dean the minute he called to her; Cas found himself standing alone right next to the table where grumpy old Rufus Turner sat giving him a side eye. 

“Damn, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Dean. Nearing tears, she pressed her face into his chest. "God, I've missed you!" she exclaimed into his leather jacket. 

They stood in their tight embrace, not speaking for close to a minute before she released him. Her face fell a bit when her eyes met his, “Are you staying…?” she wondered. Her voice was hesitant, and she seemed suddenly reluctant to accept happiness over Dean's appearance. 

“For now,” he answered. 

Cas stood perfectly still, mouth slightly agape. Fighting against his carnal instinct toward Dean. Dean was, for all intents and purposes, Jo's family. He knew Jo would cringe at the idea of him being so attracted to Dean, and found himself resorting to hoping he was a complete asshole. 

“People don't like getting stared at, you know,” a gruff voice made Cas jump. 

He averted his eyes, growing embarrassed when he realized he hadn't moved away from Rufus' table. Rufus was one of the diner's regulars. Cas was less than fond of him. More often than not he avoided the blunt old man, but he was curious and Rufus could have answers. 

Before he could think better of it, words were coming up like vomit.  “Do you know him?” 

Rufus let out harsh sound, which Cas assumed what a dismissal to his question. When Rufus began to speak Cas tensed. Even though he had began the conversation, he hadn't expected for Rufus to even consider answering his inquiries. 

“Everybody ‘round here knows Dean. Good kid, but he got dealt a shitty hand,” Rufus looked up at Cas whose eyes were wide with shock. “And if you want anything to do with him... heed my warning when I say _tread lightly_ with him.” 

Cas rubbed at his neck, struggling to find a way to respond. He rather lacked in the social skills department. He didn’t make small talk with customers, especially Rufus and his curiosity had landed him in completely foreign territory. 

Rufus took notice of Cas' inability to reply. “Just say thank you, boy,” Rufus suggested hoarsely as he brought a coffee mug to his lips. 

“Thank you…,” Cas paused, staring intently at a cigarette burn on the table top. “Sir,” he forced out. 

Dean moved in Cas' peripheral, and Cas' eye followed. He felt a twinge of guilt when he caught himself staring at the slight bow of Dean’s denim-clad legs as he followed Jo into the kitchen. How could he let his sexual instinct react so strongly to this man? He tried to ignore the heat burning his cheeks and the flutter of his heart as he focused on the movement visible through the windows of the swinging doors. He could see Benny embracing Dean in a bear hug, which caused immediate irritation. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that Benny and Dean were already acquainted or simply because he couldn't stand Benny.  

“Would you like a refill for your coffee, Mr. Turner?” he asked in attempt to dislodge the envy planting itself firmly in his chest.   

Rufus looked at his mug, then back at Cas. “Are you stupid or something? Look at my cup. You think I need a refill?” 

Rufus had a knack for being abrasive, and Cas hated it. He busied himself by straightening his apron, attempting to come off as if he didn't care. “I suppose not." 

"You just gonna stand there and watch me drink my coffee?"  

Cas pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen doors, and slipped away without a proper answer. Rufus hadn't wanted an answer anyway, and Cas knew it. 

He didn’t know what he had been expecting to find in the kitchen, but the quiet tension hadn’t been it. It left him immediately wondering just what he had walked into. Dean stood with hands shoved into the deep pockets of his jacket. His expression devoid of any previous emotion. No one acknowledged Cas’ entrance, and he was certain he had entered in the middle of some sort of family crisis. His timing had always been impeccable. 

Ellen was laser focused on Dean. Her soft expression searching him from head to toe, looking for some sort of tell visible in his posture. “Our couch is always open for you," she began. "You know that.” 

Dean looked up from the spot on the floor his eyes had been searing into. He straightened up as if he had only just become aware of his surroundings. 

She spoke again, “But that's all--” 

Dean cut her off. “Don't say that's all you’ve got… That's more than enough. I only need a place until I can get on my feet. Get a job, stuff like that. I won’t be there long.” 

“You’re welcome there as long as you need,” her voice was gentle, much like the mother she was; but there was _something_ off in her tone. Most days Ellen was calm, and despite being small in stature, her presence demanded attention. Her voice was authoritative in a way that made whoever she was speaking to want to cower in fear and hug her at the same time. Any disruption in that brought on worry. The difference in her voice was small and Cas was unable to tell what emotion fueled it. Yet he slight displacement was enough to seem like it was the sole perpetrator of the smothering tension. 

Cas despised being in situations he couldn't mend. Conflict was something he would rather avoid, yet more often than not landed himself right in the middle of. He knew he could turn and leave the kitchen and no one would be the wiser, but the thought of returning to the dining room with Rufus had him brainstorming of the best way to handle the situation at hand-- without needing to be alone with Rufus again. 

Of course he managed to do the wrong thing entirely. He was unable to help himself and found words tumbling from his mouth. They were loud, blunt, and made the whole room turn to look at him with varying degrees of discomfort and confusion showing across their faces. 

“I have two bedrooms and an air mattress.”  

“Who the hell are you?” Dean replied immediately. He seemed to grow in size. He pulled his hands from his pockets, and drew back his shoulders like he was establishing that he could take Cas down if need be. 

With his cheeks feeling like they were close to melting from his skull, Cas pointed to his namebadge. “I’m Castiel,” he answered, flicking the nameplate with his index finger.  

Much to his relief, Jo came to stand by his side. “Cas has been a server here for years, Dean.” Jo’s hand reached up and gave Cas’ elbow a tiny squeeze, it was a comforting gesture that slowed the racing of his heart. “He’s a good friend of mine.” 

Dean straightened out his shoulders and took a deep breath. His Adam's apple moved in his throat as he clenched his jaw and swallowed hard. “Look,  _Castiel_ , I don't know what kind of stories Jo’s told you, but I don't need charity from strangers.” 

Cas felt the muscles in his stomach tighten, he _had_ hoped that Dean would be an asshole. Dean was fulfilling that hope spectacularly. 

“Cas is a good guy. Don't be such an ass and let people help. You never let anyone help!” 

Ellen clapped her hand on Dean’s shoulder and pulled him toward her, effectively keeping him from snapping at Jo. “Alright kiddos, here's whats going to happen. We’re gonna close down tonight. We’re gonna have a family dinner to welcome Dean home,” her eyes darted toward Cas. “And Cas is gonna be there as he always is.” 

Cas had always enjoyed his weekly dinners with the Harvelles, but he had a burning suspicious this dinner would go sour fast.


End file.
